Work Text:
After the phone call to Richard to let him know they had won, things quietened down for Jeremy and James. They settled into the warmth of the car to wait for Richard to arrive so they could do the last few gloating scenes, but they still had no word on an eta.
Then a member of the production team was heading over, so after a quick round of Rock, Paper, Scissors to decide who had to get out into the cold to have the conversation. James lost, so he walked around to the bonnet of the car.
Jeremy nearly got out of the car at seeing James’ agitated body language, but it was too cold, and he knew he would be caught up in a minute. Finally, James turned around and got back in the car.
“Well?” Jeremy asked.
“So it turns out Hammond isn’t as close as he made out on the phone. He’s at least a day away, he couldn’t get here until tomorrow afternoon at the earliest, but it was more likely to be tomorrow evening.” James said.
“Why are you speaking in the past tense?And no, don’t correct me on exactly which negative, conditional, whatever tense you were actually using.”
“Because he isn’t coming anymore! The last bit we always do with the gloating has been scrapped!”
“Hammond gave up?” Jeremy was baffled, and worried, post accident Hammond was more determined, not less, even if his energy ran out sooner.
“I got the impression that he was overruled but didn’t fight back the way he would normally. It sounds like he’s had a really miserable time. I know I raised this before we went, Clarkson, but I wish you’d fucking listened to me when I said it was way too early to let Richard go to the North Pole, least of all in a dog sled!”
“He wanted to do it, everything was already arranged, and god knows neither of us could have done what Hammond’s been doing, we’re not fit enough!” Jeremy’s mood was on the breaking point. Nine days trapped in a car or tent and being freezing all the time had taken it’s toll.
“You think I don’t know that!” James shouted back, and Jeremy realised James was shaking.
Jeremy sucked in a sharp breath, then another, slower one. He was the top of the call sheet, and the cameras weren’t rolling now. It was his responsibility to man up and be the responsible one. By the time he felt like he wasn’t going to snap at the slightest provocation, James had nearly stopped trembling.
“Did he say what the plans are for what happens next?” Jeremy asked eventually.
“They’re arranging transport back. They’re in touch with ground control and as soon as they have an eta on the plane, they will let us know.” James relayed the information.
Jeremy responded by reclining his seat back as far as it would go and pulling his hood over his head to try and take a nap. It all they were doing was waiting, he may as well wait asleep.
Ten hours later, they were finally entering the hotel, both looking forward to a good nights sleep and getting properly warm for the first time in days. The aircraft had picked up Richard and his crew first, then taken them all the way back, before turning around to finally pick Jeremy and James up. Why it couldn’t have done both in one trip Jeremy couldn’t work it out.
They checked in and picked up their room keys from reception only to be stopped almost immediately by a harried looking PA.
“Thank god you’re back.” The young man said. “Maybe you can talk some sense into him!”
“Into whom?” James asked, only for the PA to roll his eyes.
“Richard Hammond of course. He’s been making my life a nightmare since he got back.” The PA then paused, “Sorry, do you need to get warmed up and changed first?” He asked, cautiously.
Now Richard had been having a few anger issues since the accident, but they were getting better, and as far as Jeremy knew, he never vented them on the junior staff. When it got bad at work, either Jeremy, James or Andy usually got the fun job of being on the receiving end of Richard’s outbursts, their friendship strong enough to weather the storm. Now Jeremy was very worried, worried enough to concede that James had been right when he argued it was too soon out loud rather than just in his head.
“Just tell us what’s going on. What’s Hammond done now?“ Jeremy asked. The PA’s face twisted with concern and indecision, before his shoulders slumped.
“It might be easier if I just show you.” The PA mumbled before leading the way up into the lift towards the rooms. “I want you to know that this was a compromise.” He stated. “This was all I could get him to agree to, maybe you can work a miracle and get him to do the responsible thing.” The PA led the way confidently before pausing outside the hotel room door. “He might be asleep.”
Alarm bells were now ringing in Jeremy’s head over what he would find when the PA opened the door. A moment later he didn’t have to wonder anymore. Hammond was lying in bed on his back, looking thin and horribly pale, and there was an IV in his arm. A memory of Hammond in a different hospital, under different circumstances all those months ago flickered through Jeremy’s head.
“What happened?”. That was James speaking, good, dependable, James, getting to the root of the problem.
“He’s lost nearly a stone since he left. That’s more than a pound a day. According to his team, he just couldn’t keep up with the eating. He was running and skiing thirty plus miles a day in the cold and half the time he was too exhausted to manage to eat anything anyway. He’s had a migraine for a couple of days and when he got off the plane he had a dizzy spell and just about keeled over. I wanted to take him straight to the hospital but he was adamant. Said if he went to hospital it would just end up in the papers again. Eventually I managed to convince him to let a doctor see him here at the hotel, and the doctor just put an IV in and put him on bed rest for a few days, saying he had to eat at least three meals a day. The man could hardly stand when he got here. Can you please convince him to go to the hospital!”
The rant had risen in volume until it was astonishing that Richard had managed to sleep through it. Jeremy sighed. He was exhausted, sore and worried, but for now he needed to take care of things.
“Look…” he started, searching for the PA’s name. This one was new and he had only met him a couple of times. “Alex?”
He finished, questioningly, fairly sure he had just got the kid’s name wrong. The PA in question looked suitably offended.
“Alec.” He corrected.
“Alec.” Jeremy acknowledged. “You have worked a miracle here, you really have, convincing Hammond to do anything he doesn’t want to do is difficult, especially when it’s for his own good. I’ll personally inform Andy of your good work here. Now tell me honestly, is Richard in any immediate danger that means he needs to be in hospital, did the doctor say anything like that?”
“No, she just said that she would be back in the morning to give him a checkup and replace the IV If needed.” Alec was calmer now.
“Then the hospital probably wouldn’t do anything that isn’t already happening here. James and I can keep an eye on him overnight, just get someone to bring our bags here and get the hotel to provide a portable bed so at least one of us can get some rest.” Jeremy was now guiding Alec firmly back out of the door.
The moment the door was closed again Jeremy was moving towards the bed to check on his friend.
As soon as he approached Richard’s eyes opened, taking in the sight of his colleagues.
“What’s going on, why are you in my hotel room?” He asked, sounding tired but clear headed.
“Why are you on an IV?” Jeremy asked jumping straight to the point. Unfortunately this put a groggy Richard immediately in an aggressive mood.
“You try to eat 7000 calories a day when you’re too exhausted to eat when you stop for the day. It’s impossible!”
The snap was regretted instantly.
“Sorry.” Richard mumbled “it’s just been a very long couple of weeks, and now Alec’s making noises about delaying our flight for another few days. It’s ridiculous. The IV will be finished in the morning and I’ll find it easier to eat and relax at home. I just want to see Mindy.”
As he got to the end of his mini rant, Richard seemed to be becoming more himself again, and less the fragile figure he had seemed when Jeremy and James entered. There was a moment of comfortable silence, before James jumped in.
“Well the North Pole was just as boring and white and cold as the rest of the arctic. At least you weren’t in a car with Clarkson dropping bits of chocolate all over the dashboard and driving off when you’re on the loo.”
Richard laughed a little at that.
“At least I wasn’t the one who started a three day long debate about sandwiches of all things!” Jeremy shot straight back.
They continued bickering for a while, eventually trailing off when they realised Richard had fallen asleep.
“Do you think he’ll be okay?” James asked quietly.
“He’s Hammond.”
“That’s not really an answer.” James wasn’t going to let Jeremy wriggle out of this one.
“You were right earlier. We should have just cancelled the trip, or scrapped the race aspect of it and just had the three of us in a car. Half the time I’m not sure if he should even be back at work yet, even if we’re in the office half the days he’s slipping off for an afternoon nap. This probably set him back, but he’s strong, and we have a filming break coming up, and he’ll keep getting better. The fact that he’s here at all rather than dead, or a vegetable or so brain damaged he can’t function is a miracle.”
It was an uncharacteristically serious reply from Jeremy. But James agreed, and tried to squash down the ‘it should have been me guilt’ that reared it’s ugly head.
It was a long night for two of the three. They knew Richard would be fine, that he probably didn’t need someone watching over him, but those two weeks when he had been in a coma cast a shadow over the room.
The next morning the doctor arrived, gave Richard the all clear, provided that he didn’t overexert himself until he was back to a healthy weight, and kept eating three meals a day.
The other two submitted to a brief check up, but to Richard’s barely disguised delight, they were going to fly out the following evening as planned.
It was over a week later when Jeremy was called into the editing suite in London by Andy.
“There’s a problem with the North Pole footage” was all that had been mentioned thus far. When Jeremy arrived there was the director from Richard’s camera crew, Andy and an editor.
“So what’s going on?” Jeremy asked. In response Andy just played one of Richard’s pieces to camera.
It was bleak watching. The misery and distress that emanated from his colleague was heart wrenching.
“Pretty much all of them are like that.” Andy explained. “There are a couple of less bleak ones from the earlier days. The ones where he’s explaining about the dogs are fine, but in terms of tone, it’s not hitting the usual comedy.”
“He was running and skiing thirty miles a day. What shots of him in action do you have?” Jeremy asked, not addressing the issue yet but Andy knew him well enough to realise he was going somewhere with this.
The editor had a rummage and they watched a couple of shots. Richard running along side the dog sled, keeping pace, him skiing off a kite, him falling off the back, and catching himself by wrapping the whip around his arm so he wasn’t left behind.
“There’s your story.” Jeremy said.
“Where?“ Andy responded wearily.
“You’ve got plenty of comic stuff from James and I, the eating when we’re just sat in the car, the gin, the driving off when James was on the loo, all of that plays well. So you contrast it. Make us look like the usual incompetents and make Richard look like a fucking superhero. Let them see how hard it was on him and let them see how fit he is. The whole country know what happened in September and his miracle recovery. Let’s use that.” Jeremy explained.
Andy nodded.
And that’s what they did.
